


Project SCP

by Snarkyowl



Series: Project SCP [4]
Category: Markiplier Egos, jacksepticegos, jacksepticeye, markiplier - Fandom, septicegos - Fandom
Genre: Expect violence and bloodshed, F/M, M/M, Warning tags will be added as fic progresses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-10-04
Packaged: 2018-12-20 04:11:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11912949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snarkyowl/pseuds/Snarkyowl
Summary: Mark Fischbach finds himself working at an SCP foundation after being taken off deathrow. What will he discover? What happens when the SCPs get free?Find out here, in Project SCP.





	1. Everything's Alright

Mark remembers very few things from the night his life changed, and he did things he’d never have seen himself doing as a child . When he was young, he dreamed of going to the stars. Space had been his goal from the time he could understand what having a goal was, and something he’d always wanted to be able to say was, “Yeah, I’ve been to space.” Now, though, those dreams seemed unobtainable.

One thing he remembered from that night was the anger. Hot and boiling, it tore through his mind like a force of nature and left nothing of the real Mark behind. Then again, as time passed he wondered if there even was a real Mark anymore. Had it all been an illusion? False niceties made up to please the masses?

Mark had a lot of time to think these days, too much time should you bother to ask. Routines were easy to carry out, and a lot of it didn’t matter when you knew death was only months away. Months to live, and he didn’t even get to say goodbye to his friends or family.

No, people on death row didn’t generally get to say goodbye here.

Settled as he was, back against the wall and eyes locked on the metal bars keeping him trapped like an animal in a zoo, he had all the time in the world to think. It drove him to the brink of madness some days, other days he just slept through it all. Slept until, of course, the guards came in to collect him for meals or outings. He wished they’d stop, just let him rot in this cell because he was going to die anyways.

He didn’t see the point of keeping him alive when the date was already set. Why not just let him starve to death and save everyone the time. Despite his suggestions of as much, all he got was scolding or sympathetic looks. He learned to keep quiet about it because he wasn’t ever going to get what he wanted.

Funny to think he went from wanting space to wanting death.

The accident had been so fast, and it had been an accident no matter how it looked on the cameras. He swore up and down he didn’t remember grabbing a bottle and- No. No, it had been an accident, and now he was going to die because of that accident. Man, life must really hate him.

Then, one day, his schedule is changed.

He’s half asleep when they come in, a small group of them. Idly, his brain compares them to a gaggle of geese though he’s not sure why. They don’t look like geese, but he still snorts over it anyways. That earns him an eyebrow raise, but he just stares blankly in return.

He doesn’t get names, he’s only told he’s been taken off death row. He feels he’s heard of these situations before, they free you from one death only to threaten you with another should you not do as they say. He’s right with his prediction, they explain rather calmly that he’ll be put back where he was unless he promises his life over to them.

Seeing as his life so far has grown boring, he agrees to work with the people with empty eyes and dark expressions. Scary or not, he feels any life is going to be better than rotting away in a cell someone only to be put down like an animal later.

It’s his first day and he already regrets his decision. The building reeks of suspicious activity and death, and he knows immediately that signing his life for this was a mistake. He should have just accepted his death and moved on, but no. He just had to take the “fun” route. Lotta fun this was.

The facility is shady as fuck, for starters. Then there’s the fact that death is constantly hanging over his shoulder, and he knows now why they take people off death row for this. People who have been expecting death won’t fear it as much as people who haven’t had the date of their death laid out for them in black and white ink.

Secondly, everything he does is facilitated and watched over. He can’t even take a piss without feeling eyes on his back, and it’s unnerving as hell. As one of the lower ranking individuals, his life was less than fun.

Oh, did he mention his fellow class D personnel were a bunch of awful people. He’d killed someone on accident, most of them haven’t. Most of them end up dead anyway, and Mark is beginning to feel he’s going to die too. Which, yeah it sucks, but that’s okay. Not like he has much to live for anymore anyways.

Sometimes he wonders if his family thinks he’s dead, if they’ve mourned. Maybe the foundation even sent them a false body to bury, how kind. Then again, he can’t remember if you get a proper burial after being on death row. Either way, he wonders if they have a hunch he’s still kicking.

He hopes, sometimes, that they do. Other days he wants them to believe wholeheartedly that he’s long since died. It’d be easier on them thinking he’s dead rather than somehow finding out he’s alive and working in some facility where he has to deal with odd beings.

He meets a man with vibrantly blue hair one day after being experimented on with some weird knife. The pain was indescribable, the best word he could conjure up in his mind was “overwhelming.”

The man was apparently the janitor, and they ran into each other not long after the experiment. Blue hair seemed surprised to see him, and Mark felt the surprise was warranted. He was mostly sure he was supposed to be dead.

“Hey man! How’re you feeling?”  
“My arm uh-”  
“Yeah, you bled a lot dude! No worries though, old janitor Ethan got it cleaned up.” The younger man grins, and Mark wonders if he’s even sane.

No one here is completely sane, so he decides that’s not really important.

“So… Ethan?”  
“Yep! Ethan Nestor, resident janitor.”

“You seem… Chipper.”  
“I just found out something great- gotta tell my friend Tyler.”  
“Tyler? As in scary lunch lady Tyler?”  
“Hey, that’s the one!” Ethan laughs, and Mark smiles a bit.

Ethan’s cute, and maybe all the wires in his head aren’t connected to the right thing- he’s still better company than anyone else Mark has met here.

“So, Mark right?”  
“How did-”  
“Don’t worry about it. How’d you end up here?” Ethan asks, and Mark suddenly feels as though he’s been cornered by a hungry lion.

“There was an accident-”  
“Oh?”  
“Yes.”  
“Accident? You sure?” Mark frowns at that, narrowing his eyes and Ethan lifts his hands in surrender.

“Just saying, some people say that ‘cause they think I’ll be worried about being friends with a murderer. I have no qualms.” He smiles, eyes oddly friendly.

“Yeah, accident.” Mark sighs, and Ethan nods his head sympathetically.

The two part ways after that, but Ethan mentions to tell Tyler they’re friends now. Mark doesn’t know him past his name and bright smiles, but decides that friends sounds… Nice. As he heads in for lunch, the room quiets briefly before the talk swarms up again. Shaking his head to himself, Mark heads over to the lunch line.

As comes face to face with stone-faced Tyler, he grins easily like he’s done since arriving. Tyler regards him coolly as usual, but Mark knows that it’s not because he’s mad. Not really.  
“So Ethan said I might be permitted to an extra something if I was nice?” He jokes, and he watches Tyler’s eyebrows raise.

“You know Ethan?”  
“Yeah, met him properly today. Weird kid, huh?”  
Tyler snorts, and Mark’s glad to know he does have a sense of humor.

“That’s being nice about it, yeah. He’s a bit much sometimes but that’s okay, he’s got good heart for someone who used to deal drugs.”  
“Drug dealer, huh? What were you up to before this?”  
“Organized crime.” Tyler shrugs, looking at Mark curiously.

“You’ve changed since you first got here.” He notes, and Mark lets out a bitter laugh.

“How can you not change in this place?” Mark asks incredulously, and Tyler barks out a quick laugh.

“Guess you’re right. Here, can’t afford to give out much extra today but you look like you could use it.” Tyler states, passing Mark another apple.

Mark’s grin feels more sincere this time, and he nods his head gratefully.

“Thanks man, see you later.”  
“See you, Mark.” Tyler’s voice even sounds a bit… Kinder.

Life here is still shit, but at least Mark has some friends now.

He’s settled down with Ethan and Tyler one day, sharing news back and forth. He’s long since learned the two share gossip like a bunch of highschool girls, but he also knows why. They plan to escape, and while they haven’t promised he’ll come with them if they succeed he still helps them.

“So, I heard Dr. Nelson and Dr. Patrick had another argument over something today.” Ethan states, leaning forward with a grin.

“Dr. Nelson?” Mark asks, and while he knows realistically it probably won’t be who he thinks he still asks because-

“Doctor Amy Nelson. She got here, what, seven years ago?” Tyler asks, head turning to Ethan for confirmation.

“Yeah! Seven. She’s the second longest lasting doctor here.” Ethan chirps, looking at Mark with a grin.

“Dr. Schneeplestein has been here for a whopping fifteen years!” He exclaims, and Mark grunts.

Well damn, someone must like their job.

“Doctor Patrick’s only been here for, what, four?”  
“Five, Ty. Four was last year.”  
“Right, right. So he’s been here about as long as the director.” Tyler nods, shifting back and glancing at the time.

“Ah shit. I gotta go guys, see you later.” He huffs, standing and ruffling both Mark and Ethan’s hair.

They both react their own ways, Ethan by laughing and Mark faking distress over the now messy state of his hair. As Tyler heads off, Ethan and Mark end up following his example and heading off back to work.

Mark can’t get over the fact his high school crush is here. His high school crush probably knows he killed someone.

Fuck.

She ends up seeking him out, and that surprises him so much he doesn’t hear half of what she says. When he zones back in she’s laughing over it, shaking her head in affectionate exasperation.

“I was trying to give you my email to contact me, you ready to listen?” She teases, and Mark lets out an embarrassed laugh.  
“Well I might be, but maybe not.” He shrugs, and she rolls her eyes at him.  
After they exchange that information, they spend a little while getting caught up. Amy explains about the more recent SCPs that have thrown all of them from a loop, as well as her constant fighting with a doctor Matthew Patrick. She says his name with affection, and it doesn’t take Mark long to decipher her annoyance with the other man is something akin to a sibling rivalry. It’s cute.

Amy promises to keep in contact as she heads off to continue her work, and Mark’s chest feels a little lighter. Amy remembered him, and Amy (knowing full and well what he’d done, who he was now) still wanted to be his friend.

With a small smile on his lips, Mark decides life may end soon for him, but at least he can enjoy what’s left.


	2. Discoveries Made

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens, and Snarky sucks at writing still.   
> Shame.

He joined this mess long ago with the intent of experimentation, and perhaps to some degree he wanted to make the world safer and better. How true was that really, though? Daily, he sees men and women alike go to the slaughter like mounds of useless sheep, and daily he reminds himself they aren’t normal men and women. They aren’t innocent. They’re vile humans, but still. Is he really any better?

No.

He snorts, spinning around in his chair and looking down on Bim. He hates this part of his days, watching Bim just sit in a cell. He could always observe other SCPs, but he’s so limited after all the shit he pulled with 3014 he doubts his presence will be welcomed.

So, instead, he watches over Bim until the hours have dragged on long enough and he can go down to visit him.

His days are always very much the same, but he’s been trying to mix things up a bit. The fact that Google has suddenly decided they’re going to eat together even though Google doesn’t even need to eat is a bit odd, but he’s long since learned to not question his electronic companion. Blue means well, he’s just a little confused over emotions and misguided on what humanity is. Matthew is a bad example for that, but oh well.

Matthew’s days are almost always the same drag on with bright lights in between, that is until a man named Mark Edward Fischbach is brought to work at the foundation.

Now, this man shouldn’t in any sense be seen as some valuable piece in a grand puzzle. Not when Matthew first sees him. He’s a run of the mill guy on death row for some death or something, Matthew doesn’t care.

He’s helping to feed Bim when Matthew first sees him. Well, sort of. He’s escorting another guy in to be killed then eaten by Bim.

Bim never sees Mark, Mark never sees Bim.

Normal stuff.

Except, then Matthew sees Mark again and he realizes something he didn’t realize before. Mark’s face, hell his entire body really, is strikingly similar to Bim’s.

Interest piqued, Matthew takes to following Mark. Creepy? Yes, but this is in the name of fascination and science.

-

Dr. Amy Nelson and Matthew aren’t on the best terms.

She went from spite to apparently thinking he’s just really mentally unwell, and now they have a rocky friendship going on. She means well, mostly, but she’s still kind of an ass sometimes. Then again, so is he so he can’t say much.

Not the point.

Dr. Nelson just so happens to know Mr. Fischbach. Likes him, even. It’s stupid, but whatever.

“So Amy.” Matthew says one day while he’s having lunch with her and Schneeplestein.

“You should invite that mark guy to come eat with us.” He says.

Amy frowns, setting her lunch down and tilting her head to one side.

“Why?”  
“I dunno, you seem interested in him. Just being a good wingman.”

The slap he gets is answer enough for that, but Mark does actually come join them for lunch a few days after. She gives Matthew a pointed look, and he says nothing.

-

He’s not sure who realizes it and when, but suddenly Mark Fischbach is a man of mystery. Most of the recent SCPs, despite apparently never having interacted with him, share his face and body. They look like him down to certain moles, and yet none of them have ever met.

Matthew is immediately enthralled and dives headfirst into research.

“Mark!” He calls, jogging to catch up with the man.

Mark looks surprised to see him, shuffles to give Matthew room to walk beside him and offers a stiff smile.

“Don’t look so disgruntled, surely everyone’s been after you lately?”  
“Doesn’t make it any less awkward.” Mark mutters, and Matt rolls his eyes.

“Yeah yeah, boohoo, you get to live longer and you’re basically famous in the foundation. Listen- can you lucid dream? Astral projection?” Matt asks, watching Mark intently.

“What? No?”  
“Damn. Okay-”  
“What does that have to do with anything?”  
“Dream lord.”  
“Meme lord?”  
“No! Dream- oh fuck you.” Matthew grunts, tossing his books down and stooping down to grab one and shove it at Mark.

“Read this.”  
“What? No! I don’t have time to-”  
“I will make you the time, and you will read the book.” Matthew says, and his voice is low enough Mark knows not to argue any further.

-

“Are you any closer at all to your goal, Dr. Patrick?” Google asks in a hushed tone, resting a hand in between Matthew’s shoulder blades as he leans forward to shut off the lamp on the desk.

“Google what the hell? ‘M still-”  
“You are going to bed, doctor, else you’ll never get up in the morning.” Google chastises, still in an oddly gentle tone.

Matthew shrugs it off and nods tiredly in resignation, rubbing his face and going to stand.

“I haven’t found out jack shit as to why the hell that stupid Mark looks like you and the others.” He grumbles, and Google nods solemnly.

“You don’t have any idea why-”  
“Doctor I have made it abundantly clear I do not remember anything past a vague imitation of my creator’s face, much less if they knew of Mark Fischbach and based my appearance off of him.” Google says shortly, and Matthew winces.

“Sorry, Googs, I don’t mean to keep asking.” He sighs, and Google forces himself to relax.

“Of course not, you are very tired and stressed. They have been requiring much more from you lately. Come, sleep on it and see if you turn up anything new tomorrow.” Google soothes, leading his tired companion to bed.

Matthew goes willingly, his mind filled with thoughts of the hows and the whys.

As Dr. Matthew sleeps, Google makes his way to the computers. He checks on everything first to ensure the doctor’s safety, and then he opens his email. He taps idly at the keys before finally deciding on a proper response to the last email sent by Ethan Nestor.

He pauses frequently as he types because Dr. Matthew is a poor sleeper and wakes up many times throughout the night for varying reasons. For once, the doctor seems to be sleeping solidly. Blue is proud.

He sends the email and stands, making his way to his charging station. He has a plan, but it is a plan he needs to first perfect before carrying it out. If he does things wrong he may very well endanger Dr. Matthew, and he can’t afford to do that. Not when the doctor has come to mean so much to him despite how much he denies such things as being true.

Google plugs himself in, and settles down with a long whir.

His planning will continue tomorrow, for now he needs to rest


End file.
